1. I turn 31 in a matter of weeks. Now those are your real thirties. Not that fake first year filled with cards and parties and “aren’t we getting old!” jokes. In cavewoman years I’m basically 94 and I think they all had a blog by then.
2. My life is a seemingly endless array of catastrophic embarrassments. Seems selfish not to share them with you fine folk.
3. I enjoy putting pen to paper…or fingertips to keyboard. It’s cheap therapy and I’d only leave a diary on the train or set it on fire*.
1 + 2 + 3 = a thirtysomething disaster blog!
*just to get the ball rolling I did actually once set myself on fire. It was before a night out and – to give myself a little pat on my frazzled twentysomething head – I still went out, one side of my hair a tad shorter and more charcoal-y than the other. My friends kept asking the DJ for Disco Inferno.